Let's Cause A Scene
by EmoStarlette
Summary: Dealing with the shooting of one brother, the conviction of the other, and getting used to suburban paradise? Molly Atwood definitely has her hands full.
1. Separation Anxiety

"**Let's Cause A Scene**" by EmoStarlette

**Summary**: Brothers shooting brothers…I guess that's America for you. But before the next story, they show pictures of these two brothers…

And my eyes are meant by mirror images, and I realize that I am looking at not just any brothers, but _my_ brothers.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own The O.C., and I doubt I ever will. If this changes, you'll be the first to know, I promise.

I also do not own the song "Separation Anxiety" lyrics and rights to this song belong to American Hi-Fi.

**Author's Note**: Okay, so I know there are quite a few "Little Atwood Sister" stories, but believe me when I say this one will be different. At least I hope so. I promise to make this as interesting and realistic as possible...so please read and review.

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If anything, I've realized that life doesn't go just as you plan it. Things can change in a heartbeat, whether you want them to or not. And sometimes? Well, sometimes there's no changing it. There's just not a damn thing you can do. There's no such thing as being prepared, at least not if you believe in a thing called fate. Me? I didn't used to believe in fate…my mantra used to be that we could all control the things that happened to us, that it was up to us to run our lives. But now I know this can't be true. If I were in charge of my life I wouldn't be sleeping in a parking lot right now. I would have someplace to go…someplace warm and bright, with people. The type of people that don't want you for their own sick games, or because you have something to offer. People that love you even when you have nothing to offer, nothing to give, and no reason to live. But it's those people that give you the reason to live, because you know they'll always be there. I wish I had those people.

The pavement is cold against the bare skin of my palm, and rocky beneath my back. I find it funny that as I lie here, a car could come and run me over at any given moment. Life isn't a confirmed thing…it's not steady or stagnant, it can be ripped away at any time. But I think that's kind of a thrill. If I knew I'd be here forever, well, what would be the point? If living forever meant living the life I am right now…I'd rather die right here tonight in the 7/11 parking lot. I'm not suicidal or anything, just honest. Which brings me to yet another thought…people should be more honest. Think of all the things that aren't said, all the words that go unspoken. If I could go back and say all the things I could never say, maybe I wouldn't be here right now.

Sirens continue to sound in the distance, and it makes you wonder. Is somebody breathing his or her last breath at this very moment? Or could it be that a baby is being born? Maybe it's nothing big; maybe someone just broke their leg or something, who knows? A grungy looking man with a shopping cart passes me, the metal cart filled with all sorts of odds and ends. He smiles, and I offer a small wave, since we've seen each other before. But he moves along, because we both know that I don't belong here. I technically have a place to go, but he doesn't. I have a house to go home to, a house with people who pay the bills and buy me things, stupid things I don't want or need. Don't they say home is where the heart is though? Because if that's true, I'm just as homeless as the man with the shopping cart.

There's an electronics store across the street, with televisions and stereos in the window, made to look sleek and irresistible. It's stupid that they leave those TVs on after store closing, what a waste of energy. But I shouldn't complain, at least it gives me something to look at. I used to love gazing at the sky, looking at all the stars and the moon, but now it just makes me feel small. Smaller than I like to feel. So that's where the TVs come in. There's a news program on, showing all the crime and murder in our lovely California, the place of dreams. If your dream consists of being shot for your sneakers, then sure. To my surprise, the next story must have to do with Orange County, since they show a picture of the coastline, the one I've never seen, even though I've lived here my entire life. Rolling my eyes, I figure it's about some plastic surgery lawsuit, or something equally as insignificant. But instead a headline pops up, something about a shooting involving two brothers- they think one shot the other. What kind of world is this? Brothers shooting brothers…I guess that's America for you. My curiosity getting the best of me, I keep my eyes on the screen, waiting for the next story. But before the next story, they show pictures of these two brothers…

And my eyes are meant by mirror images, and I realize that I am looking at not just any brothers, but _my_ brothers.

_Since you've been gone I fall apart  
I knew you'd leave me from the very start  
Tell me again just what you want from me  
**It's separation anxiety**_

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**A/N:** Okay, so I know that was short, and in a different writing style than I usually use. I don't really know how I'm going to write this yet- I really like toying around with writing styles, so just bare with me, I promise to delight. But here's what I need you for- if you read this and loved it- review. If you read it and hated it- review and let me know why. If you read it and it was just so-so, guess what? I still want you to review. Seriously, getting feedback is rad and helps get the creative juices flowing. **I love you, so hopefully, you love me enough to review. **


	2. The Art of Breaking

**The Art of Breaking**

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own the O.C., though I wish I would.

I also don't own the song "The Art of Breaking" the lyrics and rights belong to **Thousand Foot Krutch**.

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_-2003-_

_Summer was winding down, the days growing shorter and my mood growing darker as the start of school was imminent. September isn't the best month for any teenager, especially when pulling a C average is next to impossible. But this year, this particular August afternoon, I was coping well, convinced that this would be the year of Molly Atwood. The year where I'd reform, get good grades, date nice boys, and make better friends- all of the above. I'd make myself something to be proud of, that I was something I didn't doubt for a second. Luckily though, it was still summer, and freedom was still in my grasp._

_"Later," I said, waving over my shoulder as my friends drove away. Like any other summer day, we'd spent our time cruising around town, just enjoying the immortal feeling of being teenagers. But as I continued up the sidewalk leading to my house, I noticed a box on the front porch. As I stepped onto the porch, I sat down next to the box, pawing through it to find many of my things. What was going on? My mom couldn't be trying to throw me out again, I hadn't done anything, had I? Pulling my favorite stuffed cow out of the box, I looked underneath it, to see a torn up looking napkin underneath. Quickly, I put Mr. Moo down and retrieved the napkin, seeing the ink through the thin material. Turning it over, I slowly read the message, trying to comprehend what was going on. Everyone was gone…all of them…_

_They left me alone._

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There must be something with me and parking lots, because somehow it's where I always seem to end up. After packing my entire life into my knapsack, I had been on my way out of Chino, before the sun could even rise in the sky. So for the past two hours, I had been stuck in this hospital parking lot, unable to force myself to go inside, but incapable to leave. As I sat, contemplating what to do, I watched the people going in, but kept the most interest in the people coming out. Some came out smiling, a bounce in their step, ready to take on the world…but most, most weren't that lucky. So many faces came out despondent, their spirits obviously crushed by one tragedy or another, and seeing this only increased by inability to go inside. How would I come out? What was I going to see if I went in, and would it change me? 

My legs seemed to burn, and heart was going to burst through my chest if I didn't go in soon. It was something I had to do; there was no other choice. Bringing myself to my feet, I hesitantly stepped through the doors, wringing my hands out of nervousness. Heading to the nurse's station, I stopped, tapping my fingers on the counter. But before the nurse could turn around, I recognized a familiar head of dishwater blonde hair passing me by, not paying me a speck of attention. His blue eyes were focused on the ground, and a slight frown covered his face. Other than that, he looked good, taller, older, and maybe even wiser, if that was possible. Before I could work up the nerve to say something, he had disappeared down the hall and into a room. As I took each reluctant step, I wondered what I would say if my vocal chords stopped denying me. What would be appropriate? What did you say to a brother you haven't seen in two years?

In a slight trance, I stopped in front of the open door, my eyes placed silently on my two older siblings, one of which was lying unconscious. Opening my mouth, I closed it, as it had gone dry. Not too long ago I had been the spitfire, the perky sibling, sure I'd had my faults, but a bad attitude wasn't one of them. But now? Now hope was the farthest thing from me.

"Ryan," My voice finally rasped out, though I could barely believe I had managed it. Forcing myself, I moved into the room, but kept a good distance from both boys. Blue eyes meant my own in a confused and questioning stare.

"Molly…what are you…" Ryan was cut off before he could even finish the sentence, as a pressing question escaped my lips.

"Did you honestly shoot him Ryan?" I asked, my forhead wrinkling, as my mouth hung open slightly. It was the one thing that had been constantly weighing on my mind all day, and now that I had asked it, I wasn't so sure I wanted to know. If this place had changed him to the point that he didn't care about his real family anymore?

"Molly," He stated my name this time, in a soft manner as he visibly searched for a way to explain this to me. How did you explain this to your baby sister? Maybe there wasn't a way. "I didn't."

"Well someone did, Ryan!" Suddenly the calm and stoic persona I had taken on for the past two years seemed to melt away, rage burning deep in my blood. "Obviously he isn't okay, what the hell happened?" Fists clenched, I stepped forward, my eyes finally settling on Trey's face. Tubes ran in and out of his arm, and some type of machine regulated his breathing as another kept his heartbeat in check. He was so still, so helpless, so pitiful looking. Lifeless. This was not a way I had ever seen Trey Atwood before, not even close.

"Trey?" I questioned, wondering if he was just sleeping. That had to be it…he was just resting, that was all. I reached out and put my hand on his, squeezing it tightly. "Trey, answer me!" My voice rose, sounding high pitched and frantic, but it didn't get me an answer. My brother continued to lay there, not a sign of movement. I didn't want to cry, because growing up we had always been taught that crying did help anything, it didn't fix your problems, just wasted your time. But as my knees locked and my chest tightened, I knew that tears were inevitable. Taking a shaky breath, I crossed my arms over my chest, one hand reaching up to cover my face after dropping his hand. Crumbling forwards, I knelt on the floor, feeling the cold linoleum through my torn jeans. But as I cowered there on the floor, wondering how I could ever pick myself up, two arms encircled me, and for once, I truly believed that maybe everything would be okay.

_When I feel numb I'll let you know,  
I won't become what I was before,  
You cannot kill what's not your creation,  
__**This is the Art of Breaking  
**  
I think I might just lose my mind  
If I have to watch this one more time  
I can't explain how many times I've  
Stayed for you when you were on my mind _

No one ever said that it was easy  
So come out of the cold and stop your bleeding  
I never would of thought that things could  
Go this far, but please believe me

I'll pick you up, won't let you fall  
I'll build your trust and it won't hurt at all,  
Your only drug will let you down,  
I'm through now, so take me and blow me away

Are you gonna run away, and leave me here alone?  
Are you gonna run away, and leave me here?

_**This is the Art of Breaking**_

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**A/N**: So this chapter is kind of short, but it was something that had to be shown on it's own. The plot will continue in the next chapter, and the story will actually get moving, I can promise you that.

_Thanks so much for the reviews- there's no doubt that they motivated me to get through this chapter. Hopefully you enjoyed it, since I did have a fun time writing it. I love you all soooo much!_

_**katwoman76**- First of all thanks for the review, but it's actually their sister, haha. I know I wasn't completely gender specific in the first chapter there, and I really haven't described Molly's looks yet, but it will come in due time, I promise._

_**kursk**- I'm actually not a RyRissa writer, but there will be RyRissa tones in this story, and I guess they will be a definite ship._

_**sUmMeRiTh**- Yeah the paragraphs are a little long, but I'm all about description and insight, but thank you for trying to get through them, lol! Hopefully it'll get easier..._

_**Red-Satin**- Awww, thanks so much! I'm going for the deep, raw type of feel, so I'm sooo stoked that it came off well._

_To my other reviewers- thanks soooo much for the feedback! Send more, it seriously warms the heart and soul here. Much love, Steph_


	3. Exaltation On A Cool, Kitchen Floor

**"Exaltation On A Cool, Kitchen Floor"**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own The O.C. , jinkies.

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2: 24 am and I still hadn't been able to get any rest. I wasn't sure if it as because I couldn't get the days events out of my head, or because Ryan was sleeping on the air mattress on the floor, snoring like an ox. Probably a little bit of both, but either way, I could tell that sleep wasn't going to come to me anytime soon. Pushing off the Egyptian cotton sheets, I tiptoed across the pool house and opened the door while making as little noise as possible. There were probably rules about me walking around at night, knowing Ryan and all, so waking him was not an option. As soon as I stepped out the door, a warm breeze met my skin, running across my face and through my long blonde hair. The salty ocean smell was light and tranquil, the type of air that gave you that lull and feeling of false happiness. But any happiness was good enough for me at that point. An itch grew in my throat, and I decided to venture into the house, in pursuit of a glass of water, or maybe some Kool-Aide. Something told me though that people out here didn't drink Kool-Aide, it was probably frowned upon and considered trashy. That's what these people were like.

Pushing open the door, I was slightly surprised that an alarm didn't go off or that it was even unlocked in the first place. They probably kept in unlocked for Ryan, which also didn't sound quite right in my head. For one reason or another, I wouldn't expect them to trust him so much, but then again, they had no reason not to. Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me before taking a moment to readjust the pajamas I was wearing- a navy blue pair of shorts that were just a bit too short for my liking, but alas were the only summery bottoms I owned, and a white camisole with a small engine oil stain on the lower left corner, due to a car repair incident. So it wasn't exactly Newport Couture, but hey, I wasn't planning on anyone seeing me at 2:30 in the morning anyways. Guess we should all expect the unexpected.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from behind me, as someone stepped into sight after closing the fridge door. Oh shit, this couldn't be good. I whirled around, my eyes meeting those of a brunette boy in a Bright Eyes concert tee. He was honestly bewildered by my presence, maybe even a little freaked out, which amused me since who could be scared of a scrawny blonde girl anyhow? "Who are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Robbing you of all your canned goods and silverware," I replied, a serious look on my face as I crossed the dining room and stopped in front of the counter. "We can do this the easy way or the well…not so easy way. But I'm not leaving until I get my loot." Arm outstretched, I left my hand open, motioning for him to get me the things.

"Haha, very funny," He rolled his eyes, but still looked at me quizzically. "If you're going to rob us, at least take something good. The keys to the Range Rover are over there, on the table." He pointed across the room, to the dining room table, where sure enough, there was a set of shiny metallic keys.

"You're strange," I said, my eyes returning to him, as I took a spot on one of the stools next to the counter. I didn't really hear anything about Ryan's new family, just that some rich couple had taken him in, that's about all he had really told me. And as far as anyone else went, I was clueless. "So, you're too young to be Sandy, and you don't really look like a Kirsten…so I'm out of names."

"Seth," He stated, offering his free hand, since the other one was occupied by a bottle of Fiji. "And do you have a name? Or is it going against the cat burglar code to tell me?" With a shrug, I accepted his hand before tilting my head slightly to the side.

"It is, but if you promise not to tell the union, I think it'd be okay," I laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Molly Atwood." Almost as soon as my name left my lips, his eyes widened as if having some sort of epiphany. Resting my chin in my hand, I cocked an eyebrow. "I know what you're thinking, and no, I'm not in any way, shape, or form related to Ryan."

"Seriously? That's weird…" Seth trailed off, giving me a confused look, along with a shrug. After a moment, he began shaking his head, catching on to my mind tricks. "You're good, but not good enough. But hey, Ryan has a sister, that's…surprising."

"Never heard of me?" I asked, a bit shocked. Then again, why would Ryan have mentioned me? I guess there wasn't really a reason. "Oh well, I guess you wouldn't have." Even though it shouldn't have, it kind of hurt, knowing that I was something he left completely in the past. Maybe I should have already figured that out.

"No, no, he talks about you all the time," Seth replied, stating it as if it was a fact. Waving me off, he took a long drink of his water. I could tell he was lying for my benefit, to make me feel better. It was a nice gesture, but I wasn't stupid. I knew the truth, and on some level, I didn't blame Ryan for leaving his past behind him. "So are you going to be staying here long?"

"Oh, I don't…I'm not sure," I shrugged, biting my lip. It hadn't really occurred to me that I was even welcome there, much less that there was a chance that I would stay. For the most part, I'd intended on crashing for the night, just because Ry insisted, and that by the morning I'd be on my way. My destination was a bit fuzzy, but Newport had to have some type of cheap motel. "I mean…I didn't exactly plan this trip."

"So you have to be getting home?" Seth asked, raising an eyebrow as he capped his water. At least it was a question I had a definite answer to, that was for sure.

"Nope, considering I don't actually have one," I explained evenly, since it wasn't a new development.

"Oh, I'm sorry," He apologized, his eyes sincere, which was something all too new for me. Usually people didn't give a crap who I was or where I was going. Especially if I wasn't of any use to them. But pity was the last thing I was looking for.

"No, it's okay," I added a small laugh, which came out a little more nervous than I wanted it to. "I mean, I just don't consider a place home unless your heart is there, so you know…there really is no home for me. But if I want to continue living with this one ex-girlfriend of Trey's, I'm completely welcome to go back to Chino." An amused smile covered my face as I thought about the girl, Kayla, who was quite the basket case. But hey, it was four walls and a bed, and she had MTV, so what wasn't to like? Maybe the fact that there were always sleazy guys showing up at all hours of the night.

"You should stay," Seth suggested, as tapped my fingers on the counter. My head snapped up, as I was a little surprised by the invitation. Staying in a place like this…well it wasn't really a setting I saw myself in. Plus, I would just feel like I was in the way.

"No, I don't want to be a bother," I shook my head, with a polite smile, "I can find somewhere to crash, no worries." But even though I'd never admit it, deep down, the idea of living in such a glamorous home really did catch my interest. Just the thought of seeing the ocean every day was exciting. Wait, no, I couldn't intrude, it wasn't my place to.

"Seriously, we need a chick around here," He explained, hopping onto the counter, "Long story short, my mom is in rehab right now, and three guys trying to live off of bagels and coffee? Well…it gets pretty tense around here."

"Ah, I see," I tried to bite back a laugh. Part of me was surprised Ryan knew what a bagel even was, much less ever ate them. At our house growing up it had always been about burnt toast and mimosas, or at least, that was all my mom ever made. "I'll consider it, but it's really up to your dad and Ryan."

"Oh they'll agree, believe me, I can be quite convincing," Seth said with a slight nod, and a bit of a strange maniacal look. Needless to say, at that point, I had to wonder what I was getting myself into.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly bizarre?" I questioned, holding a blank stare with my navy colored doe eyes, the ones that were often dark and tired, with a shrill ice to them. But the ice was melted, as if I had left the perpetual winter I'd been living in. This was going to be quite the interesting situation…

"Molly?" A voice came from behind me, startling me so much I completely fell off of the stool I was sitting on. Lying on the tile floor, blonde hair spread out haphazardly and a wince on my face, I stared upwards to see Ryan's face looming over me. "Whoa there, you alright?" I found it to be a rhetorical question, but he continued to wait for a response.

"Yeah, peachy keen," I sighed, rolling my eyes a bit too dramatically, "Are you going to help me up or…?" With a sheepish look, my brother grabbed me by the wrists and pulled me up there, mockingly brushing the dust off of my back. Veeery nice. In the old days, I would have punched him in the arm and unleashed a snide comment, but it seemed a little two soon. Sure we were still family, but there was this big unavoidable void between us, and it sure wasn't getting any smaller.

"So Ryan, it's a good thing you showed up," Seth announced, a devious grin on his face. I knew what was about to come out of his mouth, and suddenly I tensed up. For one reason or another, the idea of me staying any longer seemed like a foolish idea. Who was I kidding? I didn't belong here, I wasn't like Ryan…I wasn't going to change and be well accepted or fit in whatsoever. It wouldn't work…I'd screw things up, and plus, what if Ryan didn't want me here?

"This house belongs to the Atwood's just as much as the Cohen's, and Molly here doesn't have a place to stay right now…so you know where I'm going with this." Too late. The words were out there and the idea was on the table. All I could do now was frantically search Ryan's face for a response.

"I uh…" He trailed off, his face a mixture of uncertainty and amusement, which I must say, is an off combination. "Molly…do you want to?" Why did he have to place this one me? I would have much rather had someone choose for me, tell me I had to leave or find someplace else. Because if I did stay, and things didn't go well, it would be my fault. It could all be linked back to me answering yes. But as I looked between the two of them, their eyes seemed to be pleading for an answer, and it was just too hard to say no.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess if it's okay," I shrugged, trying to focus my eyes on the kitchen sink.

"Then I guess it's settled," Seth replied, a pleased look on his face.

"What's settled?" Another male voice joined in, as an older, obviously groggy man entered the room. Mr. Cohen, of course, who I hadn't meant yet. According to Ryan, he had called Sandy to let him know I'd be staying in the pool house for the night, but we had yet to be introduced. He seemed friendly and outgoing, like the dad most of us wish we had. Or in my case, I'd always just wished for a dad period. Anything was better than a single mom who was sleeping with half the town, that was for sure. "I heard a ruckus and thought I'd come down to make sure we weren't being robbed." Wow, apparently I was quite the felon. Then again, it ran in the blood.

"That was just Molly falling off the chair," Ryan explained, giving me a harsh pat on the back. "No one ever accused her of being graceful…" What a sweet big brother I have. Maybe it was our closeness in age, but it was hard to not tease back and forth, it was just something we had always done. This wasn't even close to the normal torment we inflicted on one another, not by a long shot. There's no way I'll ever forget the time I covered him in makeup while he slept, and me and Trey took hundreds of snapshot for black mail purposes. Now that was a good time.

"Anyways, we've all deliberated, and come up with a fitting idea," Seth explained, with more hand gestures than I'd ever seen anyone make in such a short amount of time. I couldn't imagine this guy on coffee or speed, or anything like that…the results would be more than just horrifying. "We figure, we've had 2 Atwood siblings under the Cohen roof, why not go for three? And Molly, she makes the complete set."

"By the way, I'm Molly, if you haven't already guessed," I introduced myself nervously, shifting my weight from one leg to another. "And you know, I understand if there's not enough room, or if you want me to find someplace else. No need to explain."

"Nice to meet you, Molly," He smiled, shaking my hand, "And don't be silly, we'd love to have you. Kirsten isn't here, and if you haven't already heard, it's getting kind of tense around her without a female presence. I think were actually missing the lifetime network and real food."

"What are you talking about?" Seth looked at his dad in bewilderment, "Mom never cooked, and when she tried, we did everything humanly possible to stop her." Obviously, this was true, because they all grew silent.

"Oh but she could dial the phone like a pro," Sandy laughed, as did everyone else. I wasn't even clear on what they were talking about, but I laughed anyways. And as I smiled, and stood there, in a nice house, with actually nice people, I had to wonder what was going to come next. Now I had something to lose…I had my family back, a fresh start, and possibly a house that could turn into a home. All I had to do was try not to screw it up.

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**A/N:** Hey there you beauitful people! Thanks again for all the sweet reviews - this was kind of a transitional chapter, just kind of solidifying Molly's presence in Newport...kinda of a light chapter. After this it's going to lead straight into the first episode- Trey waking up, Ryan getting sent to jail, Marissa taking the blame once and for all- you get it.

But **please continue to reveiw**, let me know what you want to see and what you don't!


	4. Several Ways To Die Trying

**"Several Ways To Die Trying"**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the OC...unless the DVD box sets count. : )

I also don't own the song "Several Ways To Die Trying" the lyrics and rights belong to **Dashboard Confessional**.

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"Islands in the stream, that is what we are," Molly sang softly, trying to bite back a laugh, and remain serious. Normally she would have almost been able to carry a tune, but it proved to be incredibly difficult when two boys were laughing uncontrollably across the room. "What?" The blonde finally gave up, looking over her shoulder at her snickering companions. Okay, so she was a shitty singer, but it couldn't have been that hysterical.

"Dolly Parton, Mol?" Ryan was finally able to clear his throat and speak, even though it was impossible to keep a straight face. Molly singing was pretty much a riot in itself, but Molly singing a Dolly Parton tune? That was just plain strange. "Why? Is there even a tiny reason?"

"I'll have you know that Trey loves Dolly," She replied, trying to be stern as she finger combed her hair and then proceeded to pull it into a messy ponytail. It was now her fourth day in Newport, and her 7th time visiting Trey. Maybe she was being just a tad obsessive, but it didn't seem that way to her. In Molly's eyes, if she didn't spend time with her brother, who would? Ryan came now and then, but he seemed to have other things on his mind, which she could understand. But besides for them, he didn't have any close friends or family willing to come. All Molly could think about was the fact that she didn't want her big brother to wake up in an empty room, alone and confused. Every piece of her heart believed that he would wake up, he had to, there was no question. She hadn't even entertained the thought that he might not; it just seemed like illogical thinking. So if singing to him meant being humiliated by Ryan and Seth, well, it was something she would have to withstand.

"Wait, what?" Seth's eyes widened, upon Dolly Parton being mentioned. "You mean to tell me that the hardened convict over there has a soft spot for a certain blonde haired country singer?" Just the thought was mind-boggling, for the life of them; neither boy could see this as a reality. To them, Trey was more of the Metallica or ACDC type of guy, not a classic country fanatic.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Molly smirked a bit, her hand smoothing Trey's hair so it wasn't sticking up all over the place. All sorts of thoughts buzzed through her head- what would happen if and when Trey woke up? Could things ever go back to normal? Did she even want them to? And where were their parents? Did they even know what happened? And most of all…what wasn't Ryan telling her?

* * *

Getting used to the Cohen household wasn't exactly an easy or quick process. The furniture seemed too nice to sit on, the sheets to fancy to sleep in, and the food, well most of the time it was just too good to eat. Apart from the week old Moo Shoo Pork and the never-ending supply of bagels. Molly was on carb-overload by far, but the bagel was a diet staple in that house, so it was inescapable. Plus, she had once tried to suggest not eating bagels, or even trying something else maybe once a week, but her suggestion was meant with alarmed looks from both Sandy and Seth. Even Ryan had shot her a confused glance. But for Molly, living in the Cohen home was like living in a museum; she was afraid to touch anything in fear that she's be swept off by suited security guards with walkie-talkies and tinted sunglasses. Speaking of suits, Molly was nestled on the stairs, straining to hear her brother's questioning that was currently taking place in the kitchen. So far, she'd only been able to catch a word here and there, but as far as cold hard facts went, she was still clueless. It shouldn't have been this hard; sneaking around on her part shouldn't have been necessary. Yet for some reason Ryan was not only withholding information from the cops, but from his own sister as well.

Growing tired of eavesdropping, Molly stood up and somberly climbed the remaining steps, her bare feet brushing against the plush carpeting. Padding down the hall, she stopped in her doorway, taking a long moment to look at her room. It felt weird to even refer to it as hers...it was too big, too bright, too clean, and too good to be true. Sure, it kind of felt like a Beverly Hills Hilton (as if she had ever stepped foot inside of it) and smelled faintly of fabric softener, bit it was still the nicest place she'd ever seen, much less been able to call her own. It was equipped with a huge walk in closet- every teenager girl's wildest dream. The only problem, Molly had a total of two pairs of jeans, a sweatshirt, and three shirts to fill it with. Shopping had never been her strong point, mostly because you had to actually have money to buy anything. Instead she'd spent her life stuck with hand-me-downs (which usually meant wearing boy's clothes, or the 80's garb her cousins had grown out of), and even now she tended to stick to the basics. You just couldn't go wrong with solid colored camisoles and torn up jeans, or at least that was Molly's motto. Upon walking further into the lavender walled room, your eyes were instantly drawn to the French paned windows, both of which offered unparalleled views of the California coastline. As far as furniture went, there wasn't much, just a contemporary looking bed with a black wood headboard and the must amazingly comfortable sheets Molly had ever come into contact with. She still had yet to make it her own, but she figured she'd wait on that, since she didn't want to do anything permanent. For all she knew she could have been on the road the following morning, so rearranging the room didn't seem fair to her. Maybe the fact that she was used to being kicked out contributed to this mentality. Moving towards her bed, her eyes gazed over her knapsack that was lying out, still packed. The least she could do was unpack, even if it wasn't much. Pulling open the army style bag, she slowly lowered her hand inside, taking out her most prized possession- Mr. Moo. Before her father had first went into lock-up, he had given her this spotted, furry stuffed cow, meaning it was the last and only thing he had ever given to her. Sure, she couldn't remember neither the moment, nor the day she had received Mr. Moo, but then again, she couldn't even remember her father himself. Putting the cow to the side, she took out the next item, a small photograph book that was stuffed full of pictures and mementos. From ticket stubs to wedding invitations to the flyer from the play Ryan was in, the poorly bound book held everything together. It was the last link Molly had left to her life post Atwood Family breakup. There were only a couple things left in the bag: her lucky lighter, her favorite chunky black eyeliner, a charm bracelet her mother had given her when she'd turned 10, and of course, her CDs which she wouldn't leave anywhere without. Right now her heart and soul was owned by The Used, but ACDC, Hot Hot Heat, Queen, Jack Johnson, and American Hi-Fi were in the running as well. There was nothing better than drowning the world out with her headphones, and right now, that seemed like the best medicine.

The shrill sound of the doorbell shook Molly from her thoughts, but knowing that everyone else was apprehended, she figured it'd be best if she went to answer the door. Jogging down the stairs, she slowed down as she got to the door, pulling it open slowly.

"Can I help you?" Molly leaned against the doorframe, her eyes skimming over the skinny, long legged girl who stood in front of her.

"Is Ryan around?" She asked, craning her neck slightly to glance over Molly's shoulder.

"Who are you?" Brazen as always, Molly studied the girl further, as she took into account that she was probably one of Ryan's many "friends".

"Marissa Cooper," She replied dryly, a sheepish look on her face, "Who are you?"

"Molly Atwood," Molly stated, staring Marissa in the eye. "Ryan's busy by the way, you should probably just come back later. Or call first next time."

"It's important…I need-" Marissa began but then abruptly lost her train of thought. "Did you say Atwood? In relation to Ryan Atwood?"

"No we just happen to have the last name and both be living with the Cohen's," Molly said, her voice growing uncharacteristically perky. "Isn't that like, totally ironic?"

"Extremely," Marissa nodded back, adjusting the strap of her Dooney and Burke bag. But as she continued to stare at the blonde's face, she knew she was being played a fool. "So Ryan never mentioned a sister, that's funny."

"Never mentioned a 'Marissa' either," Molly shrugged, an amused smile pulling at the ends of her lips. "Which prompts me to ask, who the heck are you?"

"His girlfriend," She responded curtly, getting visibly tired of dealing with Molly. She wasn't the type to care whether her brother's girlfriend liked her or not, so it wasn't like she was going to take any strides in forming an alliance, or even being the slight bit nice. "So can I come in? Or is there more to the interrogation?"

"Nope, I really don't care to know anything about you," Molly said bluntly, her eyes blank and disposition cold. Ryan's relationships never lasted longer than two weeks - with the exception of Theresa - and since she was used to this, she never spent time trying to get to know any of them. It was useless. "He's busy, you could always come back later." And with that, Molly closed the door in her face.

* * *

It was late, the sun was already setting, and Molly found the Cohen home hopelessly empty. Ryan and Seth had left with their girlfriends for the day, and Sandy was out visiting Kirsten, or possibly working. So Molly was left to her own devices, trying to entertain herself with the many channels the satellite dish provided. But the Sherman Oaks marathon could only hold her attention for so long before she started to roam the house. It was hard to keep herself from snooping, but she found it hard not to. Passing through the kitchen, her eyes swept over the phone area, stopping when she saw a note scrawled down onto a post-it note.

_Trey's Awake._

Almost dropping the coffee mug in her hand, she picked up the note, rereading it a couple of times before setting the cup on the counter and hurrying out the door.

* * *

Still trying to catch her breath, Molly stumbled down the halls of the hospital, her legs weak from the nearly 5-mile trek she had just made by bike- in less than 15 minutes. She had been surprised to find Ryan's old BMX bike collecting dust in the garage- she had figured he'd gotten rid of it in the past couple years. But hey, at least it came in handy for someone. Moving past the nurse's station, she navigated the halls, knowing them like the back of her hand. As she turned into the final corridor, her pace rapidly slowed to a near stop. With a deep breath she finally took the final steps, sticking her head into Trey's room.

"Hey," She said softly, her voice barely audible. Those of her older brother meant her own deep slate blue eyes, and suddenly, it was hard to keep her distance. Jerking forward, she threw her arms around Trey, a huge smile forming on her face. Whether she was imagining it or not, she could smell the same cheap cologne on him that she'd grown to love, and just being able to hold him was worth the wait and the worry and the turmoil. Knowing he was awake made it all worthwhile.

"Molly…what are you doing here?" Trey rasped, still not used to talking so much. There was an obvious uneasiness about him, which only grew as he hugged his baby sister back. It was surreal, not only had he just woken up from a three month long coma, but now he was being reunited with the sister he hadn't seen in almost 3 years?

"I've been here for about a week now," She explained, finally pulling away. Pushing her hair behind her ears, she situated herself towards the end of the bed, pulling her legs under her Indian style. "I saw you and Ryan on the news, actually. But don't worry about that now. Are you okay? How are you feeling?" The entire response came out in one long, rushed breath, as she tried to get everything out at once. Molly tended to do that when she was excited or nervous, and since she was both at this point in time, she was sure to be semi-incoherent.

"I don't think I'll be driving heavy machinery anytime soon, but I'll survive," Trey explained, trying to figure out where and when his sister had changed so drastically. The last time he'd seen her she'd been a scrawny, knobby kneed, freckled, tomboyish freshman, but now? Now she was something totally different…she had really grown up. And in a way, it was kind of frightening, since it'd happened without warning. "God Molly, what happened to you? You used to be this cute little thing…now you're…old."

"Wow, gee thanks Trey," Molly rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. Even though she wanted to sit and just shoot the breeze for a while, and catch up, there was something else bothering her. Something she had to get out of the way. "Trey…what really happened? I mean…with you getting shot and all. Ryan won't tell me anything, and I guess I just don't understand what's going on." The look on her brother's face turned sour immediately, and he quickly lowered his gaze to the floor. Obviously he didn't have any good news for her…

"Ryan shot me, end of story," Trey shrugged, rubbing at his temple, "You know, it's really nice to see you, but I'm exhausted. You mind if we finish this some other time?"

"Wait," Molly wasn't stupid, and she knew something was up. Over the years she'd picked up on body language, and it was never difficult to tell if Trey was lying to her. "Explain, now."

"No, that's what happened, he shot me, on purpose," Trey replied, trying to sound forceful yet honest. But Molly's eyes seemed to burn holes into him, unrelenting and tougher than nails. God did he hate that sometimes. "Okay, so I may have made a mistake…"

"Oh God Trey, what did you do?"

_Tonight, they're burning the roads they built to lead us to the light.  
And blinding our hearts with their shining lies,  
while closing our caskets cold and tight. But I'm dying to live._

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thanks for all the fantastic reviews! I truly love you. So here's a long bulky chapter- the next one should be up very soon, hopefully before Thursday. Please continue to review, to **keep me posted on what's rad and what sucks**, and what YOU the reader wants. _Because dudes, I'm here to serve_.


	5. How Long Is The Night

**"How Long Is The Night"**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own The O.C. ... yet.

I don't own the song "How Long Is The Night" the lyrics and rights belong to **Thursday**.

* * *

Molly had never hated the sound of a dial tone this much before. Pure, solid hatred was running through her veins, all of which was now fueled towards the pay phone.

"Damn it Ryan, how damn hard is it to pick up a phone?" Molly muttered under her breath, slamming the phone back onto the hook. This was a crisis, pure and simple, and she had to figure out a way to fix it. But right now, it was proving to be a difficult task, and not being able to get a hold of her brother was infuriating. Clenching the last two quarters in her hands, she fished the crinkled up post-it out of her back pocket, holding it between her teeth as she slipped the change into the slot. Balancing the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she took the paper in her hand, reading the number off the dog-eared paper as she punched the numbers on the box. Sticking it back in her pocket, she shifted from one foot to another, eagerly awaiting an answer.

"Hello?" A male voice answered after a couple rings, sounding a little bit more shaken then usual.

"Seth!" Molly exclaimed, jumping up and down in pure relief that she had finally been able to reach someone. "Where's Ryan? I urgently need to talk to him."

"Molly," Seth registered the caller, before letting out a long sigh. "Bad news, Ryan isn't exactly available right now…as in he's in cuffs and in the back of a cop car."

"Shit!" Molly cursed, kicking the bike rack next to the payphone. Great, just great. Now what could she do? Well, of course she could march down to the police station and demand that they hear her out and follow her orders, but she knew the chances of that working were slim to none. But she couldn't do just anything. "They've got him on attempted murder charges, don't they? Because of Trey…"

"Yeah he's awake…" Seth explained, pulling out of Marissa's driveway. He had just dropped her and Summer off, earlier than usual, since they had a long day of scheming ahead of them. "I guess he signed something saying that Ryan was the one who shot him, which isn't true. I mean, it was Marissa…out of self defense."

"I know," Molly breathed, rubbing her temple, as she warded off prying stares from strangers passing by. "Something happened, I don't know exactly what, but obviously Trey lied."

"You're at the hospital? What did he tell you?" Seth questioned eagerly, wanting to know the details. Getting Ryan out of trouble was in Trey's hands, and right now, Molly was the only person who had gotten any truth out of him. "Stay there, I'm on my way."

---

"Someone bribed him, threatened him too I guess," Molly explained, leaning her head back against the passenger seat of the Range Rover. All the details were so fuzzy right now, and it was still unclear to her what happened that night. What she did know was that Marissa, Ryan's flavor of the week, was responsible, and now it was Ryan who was getting blamed for all of it. The fact that he was taking the fall for her…well Molly didn't get it. Why should he suffer for what some prissy rich girl did? She was the one that needed to pay for this, and what Molly couldn't understand was why she was the only one who understood this. "He claims he has no choice to blame Ryan, that it will protect Marissa."

"Dude, what is it with you Atwood's wanting to protect Marissa?" Seth shook his head as they passed through the gates leading to their street. "I mean I don't get the hardcore infatuation."

"It's definitely not an Atwood thing," Molly said through gritted teeth, as she finger combed a tangle from her hair, "Because if I run into that skank, she's going to get a serious introduction to my fist. No joke." And it wasn't trash talk, she was serious…if she got her hands on Marissa Cooper, it was going to be bye bye beauty queen.

"You know, it's not her fault," Seth responded, glancing over at her, though it was hard not to smile at her comment. Sometimes it seemed like Marissa needed a good slap in the face, just so she'd get a grip, but not in this situation. This time her intentions were honorable, and Seth respected that. "She wants to get Ryan out as much as you do, probably more."

"It doesn't matter, she's the one that got him into this mess," Molly fumed, not ready to let it go. No one messed with her family and got away with it, and money and fashion wasn't going to make Marissa an exception. "She deserves to rot, not him. If she thinks she can shoot one of my brothers, and then blame the other, well she's sorely mistaken."

"Wait, hold up a second," Seth told her, pulling into the driveway and putting the Range Rover in park. Turning to her, he tried to figure out how to tell this to her without getting his ass kicked. "So what Trey probably didn't tell you is what really happened. A while ago, Trey tried to rape Marissa, and when Ryan found out, he kind of went nuts and he and Trey ended up in a fight. According to them, Trey was about to kill Ryan, so Marissa shot him." Molly's eyes narrowed a bit, and she glared at the dashboard, trying to register the information.

"No, that's not right," She answered, processing the story, "Trey wouldn't do that, no way no how. I don't believe that for a second."

"It's what happened," Seth shrugged, unbuckling his seatbelt after taking the key from the ignition. "You should probably find a way to accept that, and fast." Molly simply bit her lip, and pushed the car door open, jumping out. Was he telling her to trust some random chick over her brother? The one that had been there for her trough thick and thin?

"I can't accept that," Molly sighed, her face honest and weak. Whether she wanted to or not, it wasn't something she could believe. "I'm sorry." Folding her arms against her chest, she shut the car door and walked away, her frame retreating into the dark.

* * *

Like a zombie, Molly wandered into the kitchen, her eyes blank and weary. It'd been a sleepless night, and the morning was coming on much to strong. Reaching for the coffee pot, she poured herself a huge cup, since there was no way she was going to get through the day without it. She had to devise a plan, a good one that would get Ryan out of jail. Yep, that's what she needed. But coffee would have to come first, since without that, she would barely be able to move. Putting the cup down, she looked up to catch Sandy entering the room, suited and ready for business.

"Hey kid," He greeted, grabbing the coffee pot and refilling his own mug, "Excuse me for being rude, but you look like death."

"I feel like it too," Molly laughed, tracing the top of her cup, "It's hard to sleep knowing all this stuff, I mean, it's just hard to clear your head." Of course it had been hard to sleep knowing one of her brothers was stuck miserably in jail while the other was probably about to bolt. In an ironic way, it was role reversal. Last time it had been Trey stuck in jail, and Ryan who had left without much of a trace.

"I know what you mean, but you get used to it," Sandy said with a slight smile, recapping his travel mug. "Well I'm off to visit Ryan. Can't waste anytime figuring out his defense." Grabbing his briefcase off of the kitchen table, Sandy started to head for the door.

"Sandy, wait!" Molly called, moving out from behind the counter, "Can I come with?"

---

As Ryan emerged in the classic jumpsuit, Molly couldn't help but think about the fact that every person she had ever cared about had once donned the outfit. The uniform of a criminal. It was a difficult realization, but as she stared at her big brother, his face drawn and livid, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the way things were supposed to be. Maybe it was just in their genetic makeup.

"Hey," Her voice rasped once Sandy had gotten down with all the law mumbo jumbo and had left to talk to a set of prosecutors. "You doing alright?"

"It's nothing new," Ryan shrugged, looking at his hands, "I mean, Sandy's right, I shouldn't have tried to run. It's my fault I'm here."

"It's not your fault," Molly sighed, reaching out and squeezing his hand, "It's _hers_, so stop punishing yourself. We'll get you out of here." Upon her comment, Ryan's eyes flicked upwards, searching her face slightly. His thoughts were obvious- how had Molly figured it out? Of course there were a few different explanations. Maybe she had overheard something said by Seth or Sandy, or even one of the lawyers, but deep down, he knew. She had seen Trey.

"What did Trey tell you?" Ryan questioned, his eyes glued to hers.

"He knows you didn't shoot him Ry, I don't know why he's accusing you, but he knows it's a lie," Molly explained, slightly excited, "But what I don't understand is why Marissa isn't being put away for this. It's her fault, she shot him."

"It's not that simple though," Ryan shook his head, just wanting her to get a clue. This was complicated, more complicated that anyone wanted, but that's just the way it was. And they'd all have to deal. "Trey…he screwed up, and we got into a fight about it, and things just escalated quickly. Marissa did what she had to to save my life."

"She shot him in the chest," Molly replied evenly, her face straight and cold, "Not in the leg, not in the arm, in the chest. She was aiming for his heart." Ryan was silent at her response, not knowing what else to say. He had had the very same thought on his mind since May, and still there wasn't a satisfying answer.

"I love her," Ryan sighed softly, glancing towards the window, wishing slightly that he didn't. Of course his entire heart belonged to her, but from time to time, he wondered if things would be easier if it didn't. Maybe life would just be simpler.

---

She was all out of ideas, as well as hope. After seeing Ryan's face, and hearing his declaration of love for Marissa, Molly knew that there was nothing she could do. He was going to take the fall, even if it meant screwing up his entire life. Trash bag in hand, she walked towards the end of the driveway, throwing it into the bin before recovering it. The sun was already starting to set, and a soft warm breeze had replaced the heat. Headlights shone in her direction, forcing her to cover her eyes and squint towards the car. The Range Rover pulled up into the driveway, and before the ignition was even turned off, she could hear Seth's voice.

"He's out," Seth called out of the open window, "Get in." Beaming, Molly bounded towards the car, throwing the passenger side door open. Her eyes were twinkling, and she couldn't hide her giddiness.

"Are you serious? What happened? Where is he?" It all came out in one ragged breath, as she eagerly buckled her seatbelt.

"Yep, we hatched a plan and got Trey to sign a deposition saying that it was Marissa who shot him," Seth explained, pulling right back out of the driveway, "But before you thank me, it's Marissa who made the plan a success."

"What?" Molly blinked, growing confused. Why would Marissa risk her reputation for Ryan? That was something honorable, brave, considerate…a few words Molly didn't associate with the lanky young woman. But maybe this just showed that sometimes, you shouldn't rely on first judgments.

* * *

Her eyes brimmed with tears, even though she had promised herself she wouldn't cry. However, as the bus pulled away, she could no longer stop the sobs from crawling up her throat, and before she knew it, the tears were running freely.

"It's gonna be okay, Mol, it's gonna be okay," Ryan repeated to her, as he wrapped his right arm aroun her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Even though this usually would have comported her, the sentiment didn't do much, just kept her from walking away. All she could see were tail lights...for what felt like the millionth time in her life.

_It's all I ever see anymore  
But the day was so bright in the pictures  
In the photo album that you gave me  
It's all I have to live for_

I'm falling down  
I'm falling down  
And you're not there to break my fall  
I shut my eyes when you're around  
I hold my breath to kill the sound  
I'm falling down  
I'm falling down  
And you're not here to catch my fall  
I shut my eyes when you're around  
I hold my breath to kill the sound  
I'm falling down  
I'm falling down  
**And you're not here to catch my fall**

_

* * *

_

**A/N**: Kinda blocky, I know, but I had to get the events out of the first episode covered, so it's not really my best work. Sorry about that! Thanks for all the reviews, and please continue sending them!


	6. New Way To Be Human

**"New Way To Be Human"**

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the O.C. or the song "New Way To Be Human". The lyrics and rights to that song belong to **Switchfoot**.

* * *

Scrunching her nose, Molly used her arm to push everything off of the counter and into the trash. Lately, the house had been getting worse and worse. It seemed like every time she cleaned something, there was a new trail of dirt and garbage to tend to. Living with three guys was obviously going to be harder than she thought. Cringing, she used the end of her broom to roll a half eaten apple off of the table and into the waste bin, resulting in a practically clear counter top.

"Hey, where'd all the food go?" Seth raised an eyebrow as he wandered into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. Molly smirked slightly, and pointed to the garbage can in front of her, which was nearly filled to the brim. "What? A lot of that stuff was still salvageable."

"No, Seth, that stuff was disgusting," She replied, dramatically rolling her eyes, "I don't think I'll ever figure out how you guys manage to make such a huge mess."

"Okay, so tell me this, what are we going to eat?" Seth questioned, folding his arms against his chest, "I'd love to hear an answer to that."

"I guess a trip to the grocery store is in order then," Molly shrugged, tying a knot at the top of the trash bag. "And in the mean time, you can take out this trash."

"Whoa, wait, you know who loves taking out the trash?" He questioned, nodding to the patio door that Ryan had just entered through. "Ryan, tell Molly how much you adore your weekly trips to the garbage can." Seth's rambling was meant by a confused glance from Ryan, who was also in the pursuit of breakfast.

"Okay, fine, one of you can take out the trash, and the other…" Molly trailed off, stopping to take a drink of her water, the last sanitary thing in the house. "…gets to come grocery shopping with me."

"You know Seth, you're right," A devious grin developed on Ryan's face, "I really do adore taking out the trash, so I'll do just that." Grabbing the bag, he began to back out of the room. "And you, buddy, can accompany Molly to the grocery store." And with a slight snicker, Ryan disappeared into front hall.

"I feel like I've been deceived…Molly, have I been deceived?" Seth shot a glance in her direction, wondering why it felt like he'd been tricked. Without another word, Molly just beamed and started making her grocery list. "You know, I'm beginning to dislike this brother/sister team thing…it's getting kind of creepy."

* * *

"This is a country club, not a school," Molly sighed, glancing around Harbor High, trying to grasp the reality that she would soon be attending such an elaborate school. Attending school in general seemed improbable, much less going to a top rate school for rich kids. 

"Don't worry, you'll love it," Ryan assured, as they climbed the steps to the registration area. Unlike him, Molly wasn't required to meet with Dr. Kim upon registration, but knowing his sister, they'd be getting to know one another soon enough. It wasn't that she meant to get into trouble; it just tended to follow her around like a shadow. Plus, getting used to all the jocks and prepsters? Molly was not going to adapt easily.

"Oh yeah, what's not to love?" She arched an eyebrow as a giggling cheerleader bashed into her arm and kept straight on walking. Yep, Ryan thought to himself, there was going to be trouble.

"Chino!" A female's voice came from behind, prompting Ryan and Molly to turn. A feisty brunette stomped towards them, with a sweet but malicious smile playing on her face. "So, you don't happen to know where Cohen is, do you? Because he was told to meet me by the south entrance, and guess what? He's not there." A Jimmy Choo covered foot tapped furiously as she spoke, but the smile stayed firmly in place. Even though she tried to be evasive about it, Molly could feel brown eyes giving her the once over, and evaluating her in a matter of seconds.

"Nope, haven't seen him since we got here," Ryan shook his head, scanning the crowd for a few moments before returning his eyes to Summer. "He went looking for you. Maybe he got caught up."

"I waited for 20 minutes, as in 1200 seconds of my valuable time, wasted," Summer sighed, trying to calm herself in order to avoid a rage blackout. It'd been awhile, but with the recent stress and uprising of problems, they had begun to make a comeback. Letting out an unnerved sigh, she racked a hand through her flowing hair, and set her eyes on Molly. "You must be Molly." Of course as Marissa's best friend, Sum had heard every little detail about her meeting with Ryan's "secret" little sister. This information both intrigued her and worried her. If getting through the summer hadn't been a big enough obstacle, now Marissa would have to deal with making an enemy out of her boyfriend's sister. But as she studied the possible threat in front of her, she couldn't see what Marissa was so afraid of. The girl was tiny, almost as small as herself, and honey blonde hair and deep blue eyes weren't exactly traits of a horror story. The chick just didn't seem like someone who could manage any ass kicking or even intimidation at it's simplest.

"You must be…?" Molly trailed off, tilting her head as she waited for someone to finish her sentence. Unsurprisingly, she had no idea who she was starring at, and didn't have the energy to try to act like she did. The thought of trying to fit in at a new school was daunting enough. "Sorry, you'll have to help me here."

"Summer Roberts," The brunette said with a nod, before remembering to offer a polite smile. Sure, maybe friendship wasn't what she was looking for, but it couldn't hurt to be nice. Especially if Molly would be living with the Cohens. "I'm Seth's girlfriend and Marissa's best friend." The statement came out a little robotic, as if it was a second part of her name- a character description that needed to be interpreted immediately.

"Nice to know," Molly nodded, but then caught herself, "I mean, nice to meet you Summer." She almost felt like rolling her eyes at Summer's introduction. It had to have been obvious that the spirited young woman belonged to Marissa in the form of a confidant, but this was Seth's girlfriend? For some reason, that was harder to believe. They just didn't seem…like a match. More like two puzzle pieces that you cram together, just because you're too tired to put the puzzle together correctly. But they had to see something in each other, and she knew whatever that was was none of her business.

"There you are," Seth said in a singsong voice as he moved towards the group, slinging an arm around Summer as he continued to read his schedule. But as soon as his arm landed across her waist, he was pushed away and given a demanding look.

"Where were you?" Summer questioned, folding her arms against her chest, "I've been looking all over for you." Looking up from the piece of paper, Seth returned her angry look with one of bewilderment.

"I was as the East entrance, where you told me to wait," Seth explained, raising an eyebrow at her, wondering how he had gotten into trouble this time. "You, Summer, are the one who failed to show up on time."

"South entrance Cohen, south entrance," Summer exhaled, a discontented look on her face. "God, I'm going to start writing these things on your forehead, then maybe you'll remember."

"Hey, if it works, I'm all for it," Seth shrugged, handing her the schedule to look over and compare with her own. "So I see you've meant Molly, and hopefully, haven't scared her into moving back to Chino."

"Nope, if I leave, it won't be Summer's fault," Molly nodded, glancing at the rest of the students passing by in their polos, mini skirts, and inflated egos to match. Then again, it wasn't like the teens in Chino were any different. They felt just as invincible and acted like they were untouchable…the only difference was that in Chino kids broke the law to get the things they wanted, and in Newport, all one had to do was pout to their parents.

"Believe me, you'll get through it," Seth replied, looking over his shoulder at the other kids. "It's difficult, but if you have the right friends, high school is a piece of cake. And you've got all of us."

"One thing though," Summer put a finger to her lip as she looked Molly up and down once again, "You'll get through it much easier once you dress the part. Because…I mean camisoles and jeans can only take you so far…and we're passed that line already." Glancing down at her clothes, Molly blushed a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear as she tried to think of an excuse to walk away. "So you know, you and I should hit south coast plaza, get some serious shopping done."

"Sounds…good, actually," She nodded, knowing this wasn't something she could turn down. Money would be an issue, but maybe she could go and try some things on, just to humor Summer. Maybe they could even forge some kind of friendship, even if it was less than likely.

* * *

South Coast plaza was a hell of a lot different than anything Molly had ever seen before. Normally, a shopping trip in Chino consisted of going to one of the various Second Hand stores or K-Mart, or if you were lucky, you could drive the 45 minutes to the nearest Old Navy, but even the Old Navy was a bit of a splurge for the Atwood family. Whether she was proud of it or not, Molly relied on the "five finger discount" if she ever really wanted something since it was one thing that had never failed her. She didn't shoplift for sport though, just for necessity, except maybe once or twice when she'd help a friend steal some Marlboros or a bottle of Jameson's. It was just a plain fact that growing up, any extra money went to her mother's escapades or was used for old debts. So plainly said, this was a whole new world for her, and a bit of a shock. Every store was perfectly lit, with energetic salespeople and mounds of clothes sorted by color and purpose. What was even more of a shock was looking at herself in the mirror as she tried on each piece of clothing. Currently, Molly was standing in front of a long glass mirror in a spacious fitting room located in Robert Cavalli, trying to figure out who the girl in the mirror could be. Because looking back at her, well, it couldn't be her own reflection, not a pretty looking girl dressed in designer jeans and the most ridiculously, yet eclectically beautiful top she'd ever seen. 

"How are you doing in there? Anything you like?" Summer called from outside the door, obviously done trying on her selections. Molly's eyes finally drifted off of the mirror and to the door of the dressing room, which was currently barricaded by the many bags of clothes that she had already purchased.

"Yeah, but you know, I don't know about this one," Molly replied a bit hesitantly, ready to put back on her same pair of ratty jeans and faded camisole. She was getting a serious kick out of the fact that every time she walked into a store, the salespeople seemed to gawk and roll their eyes at her, that is if they paid her any attention at all. But as soon as they saw Summer, their expressions completely changed, as they cheerily said their greetings and offered help. To her it seemed, that Summer was royalty as far as their customers went, and her father's almighty credit card only fueled the fires of their greed.

"Let me see," Summer demanded, but her voice was still calm and cool, in a way only Summer could manage to pull off. She was definitely the only person Molly knew who could be demanding and not actually seem pressuring.

"Okay, okay," Molly sighed, moving the bags out of the way with her bare foot, before pushing the wooden door open. Arms straight at her sides, she stood before the brunette, waiting silently for a response. "So?"

"Don't just stand there, pose, your supposed to wear the outfit," Summer explained, putting a finger to her lip, "It's not supposed to wear you." Cocking an eyebrow, Molly wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but followed the advice anyways. Standing up straighter, she put one hand on her hip, and bent one leg slightly, trying to imitate the stance of the girls in the catalogue.

"Now?" She asked, using her free hand to bring her blonde hair out from behind her ears, so that her long sweeping bangs shaded her right eye. Yes, even if it was tragically overdone, Molly had allowed her best friend to give her the scene cut, causing her to look like every other emo girl out there at the moment. Except for one small fact, there was no way Molly would ever let her hair go any shorter than shoulder length, seeing as she felt it'd make her look like a 12 year old boy. And that was no way to go.

"You are certainly a diamond in the rough," Summer nodded, evaluating the entire appearance of Molly with acquired skill. "With the right clothes, and maybe a little less eyeliner and a little more bronzer, you're totally Harbor material. Now get dressed and give me the outfit so I can go check out."

"You know, I don't need this though," Molly began to argue, her fingers gliding over the soft threads of the shirt. Then again, she hadn't need the other 6 bags full of clothing that Summer had insisted upon, but now, she just felt like a total mooch.

"Do you understand how perfect that was on you? It's like instant fashion gratification," Summer told her, her voice dramatized without her even realizing it. "Trust me, you need it. Desperately."

"But you've already spent well…more money than I've probably ever seen at one time," Molly replied, just as dramatically, "All on clothing for me. I don't think I'll ever be able to wear all this stuff. And I mean you don't need to spend so much on me. In fact, you shouldn't be spending any money on me."

"And why not?" Summer folded her arms against her chest, "You're Chino's sister, and you know, Chino has done a lot of good for all of us. And you're going to need these if you're going to fit in in this place. You're like me new little project, my protégé." Oh no, that didn't sound good. Sure, Summer was a nice girl, and definitely had a unique personality that Molly respected, and was sure she wouldn't find again in Newport, but did she want to be a Summer Roberts clone? No, not exactly. She could probably use to learn a few things, but she still wanted to be her own person.

"How do you have that much money though?" Molly inquired, heading back into her dressing room before closing the door. Slipping out of the jeans, she threw them over the top of the door, along with the shirt once that was off. She then picked up her crumpled jeans out of the corner and pulled them on.

"My dad is a plastic surgeon, and you know Newport, botox and boob jobs are in high demand," Summer explained, picking up the jeans and shirt and then proceeding to fold them neatly. "Plus, I'm kind of ticked off at him right now for being a controlling bastard. So an extra huge credit card bill is in his destiny, and after 17 years of living with me, he knows that."

"What did he do?" Molly asked, adjusting her top and glancing one last time in the mirror before scooping up her bags and stepping out into the small corridor that led back into the main part of the store. "I don't really know much about having a father, so I can't exactly cope with you."

"I don't know, he's just trying to ruin my life piece by piece," Summer responded, visibly exasperated by it. Her emotions shifted from happy-go-lucky to somber within a matter of seconds, but tried to hide it. "Okay, let's go pay, this credit card seems to be burning a hole in my purse."

"You know, you can tell me," Molly shrugged as she leaned against the counter, reaching up to play with the dangling key chain of an overpriced shoulder bag. "It's not like I'd have anyone to tell anyways, I mean, to like spill your secret. I don't exactly know anyone but the Cohens."

"Exactly," Summer said with a frown, as she pushed the credit card towards the cashier and tapped her manicured nails against the wood. "I kind of wasn't planning on telling Seth about it."

"Oh," She returned quietly, not really knowing how to respond. "You guys seem so…close though, I mean, why wouldn't you want to tell him?" The cashier handed Summer the credit card back, and began to bag up the items, which Molly retrieved once he was done.

"Because I'm moving to Miami," Summer told her, her voice even, but sullen, a hint of anger attached to her voice. "And I haven't been given a choice, not in the least."

"So what, you're planning on just skipping off to Miami without even telling your boyfriend?" Molly raised an eyebrow, pushing the door open with her elbow, since all of her hands were impossibly full. "Sure, that makes a lot of sense."

"He did it to me!" Summer argued, but realized it was something she had wanted to say out loud. "No, I'm going to tell him, when I'm ready."

"What do you mean he did it to you?" Molly questioned, her eyes narrowing in thought, "Seth moved to Miami? When?"

"No, not literally," Summer rolled her eyes, leading the way down the sunny sidewalk, in pursuit of the next store, "Last summer, as in last year, he ran away, or more specifically, sailed away, with nothing but a letter to tell me he was gone. And you know, I've put it behind me, but it still hurts sometimes."

"Yeah, I guess it's not something anyone would take easily," She agreed with a slight nod. It was hard to know what to say back to that, since she didn't really know either Summer or Seth that well. But they seemed to love each other, and really, that had to be all that mattered.

"Can I be honest?" Summer inquired, biting her lip as she glanced over at Molly.

"Go ahead, lay it on me," Molly replied, trying to offer a comforting smile, "You can confide in me, I promise. Expert secret keeper here."

"I don't want to leave, but I'm not stupid. It's only a matter of months before we all head our separate ways and start new and more complicated lives," Summer sighed, an obvious melancholy tone to her words, "The clock is ticking, and high school is almost over. Maybe I'll be saving myself a lot of pain and hardship if I just go now." Even though it seemed like a sad thought, Molly understood what she was saying. Why spend a year pretending that everything was going to stay the same forever? Their glory days were numbered, and before they knew it, it'd be time to leave the comfort of High School.

"You've got a point there," Molly responded, trying her best to dig up some words of encouragement, but it was hard to find any. Every part of what Summer had said was right, so what could she really say? "Just follow your heart. If that leads you to Miami, than maybe that's where you need to be."

* * *

"Go long!" Molly shouted, her voice ringing through the aisles of the super market, causing several shoppers to send her bewildered and angry looks. It didn't faze her though, since right now, her only concern was getting the box of Hamburger Helper into the shopping cart at the other end of the aisle. Winding up, she threw the box as hard as she could, the same way Trey had taught her to pitch a baseball. The box whirled through the air, all the way down the aisle until it began to descend towards the cart. But instead of landing in the cart, it struck Seth in the shoulder, and bounced onto the linoleum floor. "Holy cow, I'm sorry!" Molly couldn't suppress a laugh as she jogged to the other end of the aisle, swooping down to grab the box before straightening up. "You okay?" 

"I have to say," Seth winced, rubbing his shoulder as he watched the box falling into the cart, "I never expected hamburger helper to bring such pain." Shaking her head, Molly simply moved in front of him in order to maneuver the cart out of the aisle, but glanced at him as she did so.

"You wouldn't expect it, but that little white glove dude had a lust for blood," Molly nodded, a sarcastic smile forming on his face, "You'll be okay though, we can even pick up some Batman band aids for you, just in case."

"Seriously, is that a promise?" Seth's eyes widened in excitement, but were only meant with an amused look from Molly. "Hey, not fair, don't get my hopes up like that. Especially not after you hurl an extremely hard box of food at me. Not nice Mol, not nice."

"Hey, I said go long," Molly rolled her eyes, turning the cart around in order top push it into the next aisle. Passing down the aisle, she stopped every few moments to put something new in, and to then check the item off on her list. "You should have expected it."

"Okay, so I'm a little athletically challenged, and whether you want to admit it or not, you throw like Mariano Rivera," Seth groaned, still rubbing at his shoulder, even thought it no longer hurt.

"Mariano Rivera? Whoa, you snuck in a Yankees reference, I'm shocked," Molly said with a laugh, throwing a box of cereal into the cart, "Good job!"

"You wouldn't believe how much MVP Baseball we played on play station in Portland last summer," Seth explained, grabbing a few bags of bagels as they entered the bread aisle. Bagels and coffee, the two things that had to be fully stocked in the Cohen household at all times. "So how did things go with Summer today?"

"Good," Molly nodded; smiling despite the fact that conversation she had had with Summer earlier that day began to play in her mind. Thinking back on it, she realized that she had blatantly lied; she was horrible at keeping secrets. But this was one she had to keep. "We had a really fun time, you definitely know how to pick 'em, Seth."

"Yeah, she's pretty cool," He nodded, not really sure how else to describe her. Summer was a lot of things, some bad, but predominantly good qualities, and it was no secret that he loved her. But the past few days, well, they had been awkward between them, without a doubt. He wanted to talk to her about it, but why look for a problem? If something were up, she'd have to come to him with it this time. Digging up bones was just never worth the emotional turmoil. "I'm glad you guys get along. Much better than you and Coop at least…"

"Don't call her Coop," Molly frowned, rounding the corner towards the front of the store.

"Dude, you've spent too much time with her already," Seth laughed, following her towards the checkouts. Even though it was supposed to be a good thing, he didn't exactly like the idea of Molly being friends with his girlfriend. There wasn't really a reason that could warrant this, but for one reason or another, he felt it spelled out disaster. The two girls just seemed to be storm fronts, and from past experience, he knew that two storm fronts should never collide.

* * *

Everything was perfectly in place. The floral printed Moschino dress was pressed and fitted just right to her body, and was matched perfectly with the black bolero Summer had suggested she wear. A pair of dark cowboy boots were already on her feet, clicking softly against the wood floors of the kitchen. Glancing at her relfection in the kitchen window, she inspected her hair, which was loosley curled, with one side pinned back. Her makeup looked nothing like the way it normally did, instead of bright eyeshadow and smokey black liner, she had simple bronze shadow with a matching brown liner that was plain, but pretty. Other than that, she was instructed to keep a tube of lip gloss close to her at all times, and to reapply after every class. In other words, Summer's fashion regime took time and skill, and quite frankly, was getting Molly a little fed up. All she wanted to do was roll out of bed and head to school in her pajamas, but that would be less than accepted at Harbor. But hey, no pain no gain, right? Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she sipped it carefully, as not to ruin the lip gloss she already had on. But by the time she was done with the first sip, must of it had come off onto the coffee cup, only making her want to give up even more. She wouldn't quit though, not this soon. She was going to at least try to be the model Harbor student, or at least give it a chance. This wasn't something she could screw up, which meant no fights, no talking back to teachers, and no skipping class. This was going to have to be done right.

"Ready to go?" Ryan asked, car keys in hand as he breezed through the kitchen.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

Walking through the halls of Harbor High, Molly did her best to balance all her books, as well as the Fendi bag Summer had given her that morning, insisting her outfit wouldn't be complete without. Not knowing how to turn her down, Molly graciously accepted the bag, but was now regretting the decision. The minute bell rang, signalling that she had only 60 seconds to get to the other end of the hall. If she picked up her pace, she'd be able to make it for sure, which meant making it to her final class safely. After scanning the halls for teachers, Molly began to jog, holding her things tightly against her chest as she kept her eyes on the prize- the door to her Music Theory class. But as she made it just within feet of the door, something got tangled up between her feet, causing her to fall, and faceplant on the floor. 

"Wow, for a hardcore Chino chick, she sure does go down easily," A bleach blonde cackled, as her group of friends giggled right along with her. As Molly slowly rolled over and looked upwards, she realized that it was the blonde's Manolo covered foot that had gotten in her way. "How's the view from down there, Miss Ghetto Fab?" Propping herself up on her elbows, Molly could think of a thousand good things to say back, but more than anything, she wanted to haul off and punch the witch. Nothing would be better than the feeling of her fist agaisnt the girls face, but she had promised herself that she was going to try not to screw things up, so it couldn't happen. God, this just sucked.

"Reagan, oh my god, what's with the huge red pimple on yourlip?" A voice said from behind the group. The girls parted, only to reveal Marissa Cooper, poised to attack. "It's huge! Bigger than anything I've ever seen! Seriously, you should really do something about that."

"What?" Reagan exclaimed, her hand flying to her face to cover up her mouth. Her eyes were bugging nearly out of her head, as if they were going to pop out at any minute. "Are you serious?"

"Oh wait, maybe it's a herpies outbreak," Marissa bit her lip, as if she was trying to think about it, "Yeah, that's probably what it is, sorry to scare you." A smile spread on Marissa's face, as Reagan continued to look at her in horror.

"Bitch!" Reagan spat, beginning to storm off, her friends following closely behind her.

"At least I'm not a skank," Marissa called back in a sing song voice, watching as they continued down the hall. Once they were out of sight, she stepped forward, kneeling down to help Molly collect her things. "You okay?" Instinctively, Molly wanted to chew her out for helping her, when she could have saved herself. But deep down, she knew that Marissa was just trying to be nice, and that's what mattered.

"I'm fine, thanks," Molly sighed, picking up the last of her things before rising to her feet, "Thanks for that, too. I probably would have socked her in the face if you hadn't have stepped in."

"No problem, they're just dumb whores with low self esteem," Marissa shrugged, an amused, but caring expression on her face. "Don't take what they say to heart, it's just their way of building their self worth."

"Noted," Molly nodded, returning Marissa's smile for a split second, "Well, I'll see you around." Pushing her hair out of her face, Molly made her way towards the classroom she was originally headed for, but then stopped as she reached the door. "By the way, I'm sorry for treating you like crap. You don't deserve it." Without waiting for a response, she opened the door, and went inside, just as the bell rang.

_With all of our fashions  
We're still incomplete  
The God of redemption  
Could break our routine _

There's a new way to be human  
It's nothing we've ever been  
There's a new way to be human  
New way to be human

* * *

A/N: Again, thanks for all the great reviews. I totally love you guys. If you haven't noticed, each chapter is titled after a song, so now I've went back and added lyrics to every chapter (from the song it's titled after) except for one. So check those out, some of the lyrics fit amazingly.

Thanks for reading, but please review to let me know how I'm doing! It's a great help!


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